


In a Place That Never Rests

by marimoes



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Duelling, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Epilogue, Sparring, Sparring that leads to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: “Good. I find it nice to see you when you aren’t bloodied and wheezing,” Thanatos says, lip quirking in not quite a smile. “Though I can’t say it doesn’t look good on you.”Zagreus leans back against the railing, crossing his legs to balance just so on his heels. His head falls, exposing his neck and collar nonchalantly, before humming.“Sounds like you want to do something about that, Than. I thought you said you didn’t want to fight me. Change your mind?”
Relationships: Thanatos & Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 701





	In a Place That Never Rests

Blood drips away from Zagreus’ skin as he pulls himself from the river Styx. The marble gleams beneath him, taunting almost as it reflects his face back at him. A tired smile sits on it, crinkling the skin around his eyes. One from each of them.

Though he would argue that his singular one is nothing in comparison to his mother’s. 

He has many reasons to keep getting out, speaking with her shortly each time he can, but none more than seeing the better parts of himself alive in another. It lets him have more than just hope each time death takes him again.

“Ah, so Redacted got you again? What a pity, I thought you really had it this time,” Hypnos says, tucking a hand beneath his chin before falling back against his coat. “My brother will be pleased you’re back, at least. As pleased as Thanatos can get, I think.”

Zagreus keeps his composure from shifting into excitement. The last thing he needs is Hypnos knowing he’s actually a little glad to be home.

“Any reason?” Zagreus hums, tilting to look just around the pillars that rest behind Hypnos. 

A laugh chimes from him before a yawn can take its place. “He’s here. Go ask him yourself.”

“So I shall. Enjoy your nap.”

Hypnos doses back off without another word, settling further back into the surrounding red. Zagreus sends a quick glance to his father’s desk. He’s still gone, it seems, and pain makes a sharp line down Zagreus’ spine. He almost had him this time… if he only had a few more seconds.

It’s a thought best tucked away when he turns the corner towards his father’s office. Out against the railing, lit by the souls of the damned as they swim for eternity, stands death himself. 

He’s leaned forward, elbows resting with feet tucked up and floating off the ground. It almost makes Zagreus wonder if putting a chair there would even help. Would Thanatos just float above that too? He bets his father would _love_ that.

“Zag,” Thanatos says. He’s still faced ahead, unchanged regardless of his company. “You’re back again. I felt you fade for a little while, so you must have reached the surface again. How was it?”

Walking to his left side, Zagreus leans a single arm against the railing. He watches as Thanatos looks to him, clearly genuine in his inquiry.

“Cold. Still snow covered. I almost got past father this time, but didn’t quite make the cut. Though I must say it made seeing you much faster than normal,” Zagreus sighs, a finger moving back and forth, drawing a soft line of fire against the eternal white wood. “I’m surprised you came all the way down here.”

At this Thanatos turns his head, mouth crooked in a frown of disbelief. “And why is that? I work for Hades; this is his home and I have to report in every so often.” He presses his hands together before flexing them gently as he seems to find his next sentence. “Do you not want to see me here?”

“Gods, no!” Zagreus laughs and when Thanatos turns fully towards him, shimmering on the edges as if he may just disappear right then, Zagreus jerks forward to grab his wrist. “Yes! I like seeing you here.”

This seems to bring ease to Thanatos, enough so that he rests his feet against the floor. 

“Good. I find it nice to see you when you aren’t bloodied and wheezing,” Thanatos says, lip quirking in not quite a smile. “Though I can’t say it doesn’t look good on you.”

Zagreus leans back against the railing, crossing his legs to balance just so on his heels. His head falls, exposing his neck and collar nonchalantly, before humming.

“Sounds like you want to do something about that, Than. I thought you said you didn’t want to fight me. Change your mind?” Zagreus keeps his eyes on the wall of columns, knowing just what the man next to him looks like. 

In his mind’s eye he can see the blow of cold breath against Thanatos’ bottom lip as his desire stirs. Perhaps Aphrodite is truly onto something. 

Soft murmuring of the damned fills the silence for a moment before the scrape of Thanatos’ scythe echos beside him. 

“You have a training arena, don’t you? It’s how you keep escaping, or so your father suspects. We could spar a bit before you run off again… if that sounds like something you would want.” 

Zagreus turns back to look at Thanatos and finds just the look he imagined. Eyes shiny with something beyond innocent and a hand tightened into a fist at his side. If he thought he could get away with it, he would flit his gaze lower to find a new outline against the cloth beneath Thanatos’ waist. 

Though his attention is split to the one pressing against his own thigh.

“I do. But if I show you, you can’t rat me out to my father or he’ll board it up. It’ll be our own little secret—deal?” Zagreus asks, hand extended.

“Many people try to make deals with death,” Thanatos murmurs, reaching out to shake. “You might be the only one to succeed.”

Zagreus grins before dropping Thanatos’ hand and pushes back up to stand. He rolls his shoulders once, twisting his back to the side as he does it, sending a ripple of cracks up his spine. 

Thanatos’ eyes drop in unamusement as he turns back towards the main hall, but he too rolls his shoulders.

“I always knew I was special, but it’s nice to get confirmation on it,” Zagreus says, trotting up next to him.

“We’ll see how special you are when my scythe has you pinned against the ground,” Thanatos mutters, throwing a look to Zagreus. A smirk is painted just barely on his lips, and if not mistaken, Zagreus sees Thanatos dart his tongue quickly against his bottom lip.

“The only thing you’ll ever be able to pin me with is this,” Zagreus counters, innocence veiled weakly, tapping the butterfly on his chest, “but I’d love to see you try.”

“That won’t help you during our match, you know that right? Though I never expected it would get used against me in the first place.” 

“There’s always a first time,” Zagreus hums, hands already working to undo it from the fabric. 

Thanatos hovers a step ahead as they continue through the hall. Eyes are on them both the entire way to the east wing; shades, Cerberus, even Nyx as they turn into Zagreus’ chambers. All seemingly knowing in their gaze, but also curious. It’s no secret the two of them enjoy each other’s company—not since they were caught in a corner just outside Elysium by a rather chatty shade.

A fact that doesn’t seem to fluster Zagreus as much as it does Thanatos. After all, he supposes, death must maintain an image of sorts. And that image shouldn’t be him, pieces discarded against the ground, panting against blood painted skin. 

It’s obvious Thanatos is trying not to look around as they pass through Zagreus’ chambers. He’s only been in here a few times before, but is likely keeping an eye out for any new additions that have been made since the last time. 

“What is on your bed?” Thanatos asks, words likely coming out before he can stop them. “When did you get a blanket that literally feels like death?” 

Zagreus throws a glance to what he already knows is there. He had the contractor find it for him just last week—a bright red fabric, adorned with a skull and a general aura of despair—and has come to quite like it. 

“Don’t you like it? I think it’s nice. Not that I really sleep anyways, but ordering things tends to irritate father so when I saw it on the list I knew I needed it,” Zagreus explains, running a hand up through his hair to scratch the back of his head. “I can change it back to the other one if you like.” 

A soft snort of disingenuous amusement presses from Thanatos’ nose. 

“You don’t need to change it. Just interesting to see what you feel the need to spend gems on sometimes,” Thanatos sighs, eyes flitting to the poster of Dionysus on the wall. “If anything, I would prefer _that_ to be gone.” 

“ _What_? He’s so great, I love having him up in here,” Zagreus argues, moving to stand in front of the wall. Thanatos crosses his arms, and a small smirk pulls at Zagreus’ lips. “Jealous of the God, are we?” 

Thanatos’ head snaps to look at him, with that same crooked frown on his face. “No. It just feels like he’s watching me when I’m in here, and unlike you, I don’t like when the Gods can see me.” 

Turning on his heel, Zagreus falls back towards the opening at the back of his room. Beyond it is the arena, filled with his weapons and keepsakes—and also Skelly. He’ll have to hope the little bone gremlin will leave them be for now. 

“They can’t see me that well, Than. Not like you can,” Zagreus says, letting his voice dip a lower. It coaxes Thanatos forward a little, just as he thought it would, and he settles back against the ground once more. 

“So. Sparring,” Thanatos nearly chokes out, hand pressing against his lips to fake a cough. “Through here is the arena, right? And… and we’ll be alone back there?” 

Zagreus starts to walk backwards down the hall, head nodding as he goes. “Once I tell Skelly to shove off, at least.” 

Thanatos’ brows furrow in quiet question as he follows, but they lift in understanding once they step foot into the arena. Before them conjures the small skeleton man, eyes void of anything yet maintaining a dull red of life. 

“Skelly, we need the arena to ourselves for a bit to, ah, practice. Hope you don’t mind,” Zagreus says, walking up to the weapons that hover against the walls. His fingers graze each one, eyes closed as he tries to figure out which to use. 

“Eh, no problem boyo. I’ll get outta your hair, but don’t go easy on em’ like we talked about,” Skelly warns, collapsing into dust at once before his remains vanish. 

“Never,” Zagreus promises, standing beside Stygius before picking it up. “Blade to blade… that seems fair, doesn’t it?” 

Silently, Thanatos walks over to the opposite side of the arena, flipping his scythe down in front of his body. He hasn’t fought like this in a long time, Zagreus knows. Usually he just watches as death encircles his prey, pulling them into the unknown. 

A void that doesn’t allow anything out once caught. It’s terrifying, fascinatingly so, and Zagreus wonders just how it works on the surface. 

Not that it matters now. It won’t work here. 

“More than fair. I hope you’ve prepared yourself,” Thanatos agrees calmly, hand tightening on the staff. 

“To fight death? Why, Than, I do that every day,” Zagreus hums, swiping through the air in front of him once, smiling at the echoing hum his blade gives. 

There is no call to start between them, only an immediate clashing of blades as both meet in the middle of the space. It’s loud in both of their ears; pulsing of excitement and blood, the singing of weapons older than either of them ever will be, and the desire that sits heavy on their necks. 

Zagreus jumps backwards, dashing quickly to the left as Thanatos’ blade comes down to strike the ground. It leaves the stone to break on impact, jumping into the air. With it comes the thrill Zagreus hoped for when he baited Thanatos earlier. 

Going all out is his specialty, each and every time he runs from these walls. There is a consequence to what he does, and through that he’s learned how to fight. How to win. How to live. 

A low sweep against the ground causes Thanatos to stagger backwards a step, refusing the instinct to float instead. Keeping it as fair as he can, Zagreus realizes, is an unspoken vote of respect. 

It nearly makes him pause if not for the swing he dodges not a moment later. 

“Not so bad,” Zagreus tuts, thrusting forward, nearly missing Thanatos’ cloak. “I would think you would be out of practice in combat like this.” 

His wrist is grabbed all at once, sending Zagreus to be thrown hard against the ground. It doesn’t knock the wind out of him like it used to, some one hundred escapes ago, but it still makes him hiss. 

A noise Thanatos rather likes, given the sigh that falls from his lips, hovering over Zagreus on the ground. 

“Zagreus, you underestimate me.” Thanatos drives his blade down, swinging a perfect line to Zagreus’ neck, but catches nothing but air as he slips from the hold. “Damn you!” 

Rolling on his back up onto his feet, Zagreus hops in place. He’ll have to be faster than usual, left alone without the help of Hermes on his side this time. Blood pounds in Zagreus’ veins, making his chest ache with each touch back to the arena’s floor. 

Still, fighting like this—ducking and rallying forward towards something that isn’t just another obstacle sent by his father, or even his father himself—it’s fun. 

It makes him feel alive in a way different than when he watches his blood spill against the ground or the food he eats to feel better. There is a point to this beyond survival, hidden in the concentration painted on his rival’s face. 

“Now, now, Than,” Zagreus chides, lunging forward harder than before and manages to catch fabric through his sword’s tip, pinning Thanatos to the pillar behind him, “I think you’re the one underestimating me.”

Their chests barely touch with each labored breath being pulled into their lungs, eyes shaking with a maddening excitement of being in such a close proximity. Usually if they’re this close, something else isn’t far behind. A thought that he’s certain is also on Thanatos’ mind, given the weak grasp on Zagreus’ arm. 

He smiles, that tight pursing of his lips, before pushing with his entire body weight forward to spin Zagreus out to the side, ripping away from where he once was pinned. His cloak hangs freely now against the wall and ground, leaving nothing but gold and his tunic to cover him. 

To see him hoodless isn’t exactly uncommon, but it’s still not a sight Zagreus can get used to. Not as of late, when they both cover themselves in what darkness they can shroud in for a few moments of privacy. 

“You look good like this,” Zagreus admits, jerking Stygius from the wall. It feels more honest than he would like to be, but also there is still a battle to win apart from their weapons, and he knows he just made another strike. 

Hair is huffed up both with an irritated breath from Thanatos, but also the breeze taken from the spin of his scythe. Its hilt slams into the ground, making it shake for a moment, rattling the keepsakes in the case behind him. 

“Don’t think you can distract me, Zag. I’m not that easy,” Thanatos says, betrayed by the red that is starting to creep up his neck, either from exertion or something he’d rather die himself than to admit. 

Another moment and they’re back in the middle, metal against metal in a flurry that if he wasn’t focused may just make Zagreus’ head spin. But it’s worth it when he finds that opening, brief and perfect, before striking Thanatos into the ground. 

His blade is pulled, resting against Thanatos’ neck and when it touches his skin it doesn’t draw blood. It only leaves a slit into an eternal darkness. 

“Well? Aren’t you going to finish it?” Thanatos bites through clenched teeth, scythe falling with a bright clang against the floor next to him. 

Zagreus grins, wolfish and hungry as he leans down, pushing Stygius harder into Thanatos’ neck. His knee shifts from resting against Thanatos’ hip to his inner thigh, moving higher and higher against the stiff outline he knew he’d find. A hard swallow moves his blade and Zagreus watches as his opponent struggles to meet his eyeline. 

“I can finish you just fine,” Zagreus almost purrs before pulling away his blade.

He replaces it with his mouth without pause, tongue making a languid sweep against the wound. It pulls a bitter taste and also a soft groan from Thanatos’ lips. Zagreus continues to kiss, bringing heat to cold skin, stopping just beneath the edge of silver hair. “... If that sounds like something you would want.” 

Much like the battle, the two meet with no call to start. There is only a clash of teeth before tongues, and legs that kick against stone. Metal again clangs, now in the form of pieces that are taken and thrown without another thought, as they roll away to rest in a corner of the room that is no longer needed. 

Thanatos pants, harder than he did in the heat of battle, with fingers that do not rest against Zagreus’ skin. Featherlight touches with harsh kisses mix in a dizzying combination. 

When a tongue paints across the roof of his mouth, letting him swallow Thanatos closer still, Zagreus thinks himself drunk.

“No shades to send a terrible report around, I hope?” Thanatos mutters before a soft moan takes the place of his concern, wrapped much like Zagreus’ hand now around him. Another falls from him with the second stroke of practiced fingers, leaving him to jut eagerly up into the fist that now fights him in a new battle. 

Zagreus laughs, ghosting kisses against Thanatos’ chest while working his way down. Heat pools within himself, much like he assumes rests in the spot he now sucks against, dragging his tongue slowly along the line of Thanatos’ hip. 

“The fight is over Than, you can give up now,” Zagreus murmurs, breath blowing soft huffs against his knuckles that once more return to meet the taut skin of Thanatos’ abdomen. “But I want to hear you say it.” 

“You won’t.” 

Another kiss is given against a quivering thigh and Zagreus looks up to catch the slightest glimpse of Thanatos’ desire lidded eyes. So, they’re still fighting? As he wishes. 

He makes sure to keep a steady gaze before dipping two fingers into his mouth. Thanatos twitches in his grasp at the sight, now trapped like Zagerus’ lips tight around the digits. An unwilling groan blows from Thanatos when they’re pulled away glistening. 

“Last chance to relent,” Zagreus hums, trailing his hand. Thanatos twitches under his grasp, fighting an admission he knows he will not hear. “Going once.” A single finger slips into Thanatos leaving his heels to kick against the floor, lip bitten in defiance. Zagreus raises his eyebrows and tsks. “Going twice.” The second finger joins the first, pulling a curse from Thanatos’ lips.

“Blood and darkness, you—” Thanatos gasps, held together only by the stabilizing hand of Zagreus on his hip. 

“I gave you chances, you just refused to take them. Maybe I should call to you now instead of Ares, seeing how you clearly love to fight,” Zagreus says, lowering his shoulder into the place it sits each time he wields Aegis. Steady. Driving. 

Thanatos wraps a leg around Zagreus’ back, pressing a hard heel into the skin of his lower back, forcing him closer. “Tell me, do you ever shut up?” 

“Occasionally,” is the only answer Zagreus gives before moving. 

He pumps slowly at first, a lie in the form of excruciating anticipation. But once he feels Thanatos jerk, demand in the form of a groan hissing from his lips, Zagreus knows it’s time.

Picking up his speed, Zagreus lets out a groan himself, lip bitten back to keep from no doubt panting at the sight beneath him. He tells Thanatos how good he looks often, regardless of his belief, and in this moment Zagreus wishes he could just see himself. 

Ethereal, even when sweat covered against a cracked stone floor.

Zagreus knows his pace is harsh, and if he weren’t dealing with Thanatos himself, some might call it cruel. Death has no place for words such as those, not when his head is pressed back, pulling his body up like the bow strung only feet away. 

Not when pleasure washes over him clear as any wave against the edges of the river. 

Kisses are peppered wherever Zagreus can find skin, never once losing his rhythm. It’s his defining feature—at least he thinks so. Thanatos might argue it’s his refusal to give up, much to his own chagrin at times. 

A stutter comes from Thanatos’ lips in a sign Zagreus would have to be a fool to miss. When he pulls away, free hand already working himself, he looks for his second favorite sign. It’s found when Thanatos rests his back against the floor once more, lips turning pink from teeth and strain. They’re nearly mortal looking at times like this, flushed with humanity he will never have. 

It’s distracting in a way Thanatos despises, given that it always slows Zagreus down. 

A fact apparent now, it seems, as one heel is joined by another and Zagreus nearly folds into Thanatos with the kick. 

“Impatient, are we? You know we have eternity,” Zagreus chides, pressing against him just barely at the tip, leaning back what allowance he has when Thanatos bucks forward. “Come on… I just want to hear you.” 

Thanatos leans up on his elbows, eyes narrowed in a look many do not live to speak of. His chest heaving with breath that weeps a small cold shine over his wetted lips. 

“I’m going to kill you first chance I get next time you leave, I swear on it,” Thanatos almost hisses, closing his eyes before huffing out a deep sigh. Zagreus raises his eyebrows along with the corner of his mouth in a smile. “Fine. I give up.”

The word barely makes it out before Zagreus is in him, hips driving forward until they meet their match. Thanatos’ head slams back against the floor as his elbows give beneath him, making a groan born of two reasons leave his throat. His fingers clutch at the stone beneath him, digging precise holes of frustration turned into a makeshift excuse for stability. Until Zagreus can feel it: that returning itch to get closer, to taste Thanatos against his tongue once again. 

Hands tug at Thanatos’ thighs, shifting them from their death grip on his hips up onto Zagreus’ shoulders. It takes a single rock of his hips in the new position for a moan to leave Zagreus, followed by a stutter of a laugh. 

Thanatos bends as his lover presses onward, doubling him with no slack in the smack of their skin. His knees hover just above his shoulders and when Zagreus’ lips touch it’s as if they were both set aflame. Asphodel has nothing on the sensation of being consumed the way they are now. Hell doesn’t exist around them, nor does time. Only the panting of hot breath and weak moans as they drive further towards a common goal. 

To work together in the field has become the only bright spot in his job as of late, or so Thanatos has said, whispered against Zagreus’ mouth before he disappears once more. So here, achieving something that glimpses that feeling but takes it further, it makes staying seem a little easier. 

Stale air is breathed through jaws that hang weak before sucking skin. Zagreus can feel it though—the tell-tale sign of his own that he’s drawing close to an end. As can Thanatos, whose eyes are now open, just barely in slits of gold like coin dropped into a crack in the depths. 

He can reach for it, pluck it away from the dull surroundings in which it rests, and hold it forever. That’s all Zagreus really wants, right? It’s what they both hope for even as he pulls himself from the Styx over and over again: this. 

Wherever it ends up being and however they get there, Zagreus knows as Thanatos’ eyes again wind shut that there are few places he would willingly stay beneath the surface. Here being the top of the list. 

Thanatos comes, gasping with chattering teeth, still wheezing in air as Zagreus continues to rock towards his own release. It comes with the bite of nails on his shoulders and teeth on his lips. A defeat that feels more like a victory, hard won and savored much like the sun that sits on his skin those few moments he’s able to have. 

When he rolls over against the stone, shoulder to shoulder with Thanatos, he holds out a weak hand into the air between them. Though he cannot see it, he feels the confusion twisted on his lover’s face. 

“What are you doing?” Thanatos mutters, reaching up to thread his fingers into the spaces left for him. “I didn’t think you were this gentle.” 

Zagreus laughs, loud and echoing, and Thanatos pulls away quickly. “No, no, please. I was just going to shake your hand. You know, good fight and all. A proper end. Deal’s a deal.” 

“You’re remarkably hard to understand for someone that is so simple.” 

“Maybe that’s what I’m the god of.” 

“Simplicity? Confusion? Neither of these are beneficial or very good, Zagreus. You should work towards something else,” Thanatos mutters, groaning as he pushes up on a single elbow. 

His eyes lull once more, but this time it isn’t with lust. It’s with something far more rare. 

“Are you tired? I have that new blanket that is begging to be tried out,” Zagreus hums, reaching up to run a hand against Thanatos’ cheek. 

A smile quirks on bitten lips, thoughtful as he looks back into the hall that leads to Zagreus’ chambers. 

“Death never rests. Don’t you know that by now?” Thanatos sighs before falling back against the ground, settling closer against Zagreus. 

Slowly, he reaches his hand out in the air between them, just as Zagreus did before, and is met in kind. Warm fingers thread through the spaces left to be filled, and Thanatos runs his thumb against Zagreus’ before bringing it up to his lips. 

“I’m well aware,” Zagreus murmurs, biting back a smile. “Seems nothing here does.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't we all just want sexual tension filled sparring? 
> 
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle  
> Twitter: @__moes__


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